


Jumping Puddles

by MercurialHolmes



Category: Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cute, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Mental Illness, Phan - Freeform, Road Trips, Running Away, Sad Dan Howell, Sad Phil Lester, Summer, bear with me, idk lads this was a nanowrimo from like 2 years ago, its cute ok, kinda sad but theres some real dank wisdom in here i promise, read this if you're in the middle of college applications you'll feel better i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialHolmes/pseuds/MercurialHolmes
Summary: Phil wants to chase it down and live it for himself, for all of the stories from his children's books have got to start coming true at some point.Right?





	

It’s always been sort a fantasy of Phil’s. A completely irrational- unsafe- stupid idea that would only lead to him being more broke than he’d intend to be, and perhaps only a little bit more wise. It’s not like he was short on fresh air- but he was short on dumb adventures. 

Which is how Phil Lester finds himself parked on the side of the road at ten to midnight, on the phone with his mother trying to explain why he’d run away. 

He was twenty four years old- so perhaps “run- away” was a strong term to be using, but it felt more like running away than anything else. Besides- he’d borrowed a car that was most certainly not his own, without asking- and though his mum was angry- Phil couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Home was lovely. People took care of him and made sure he ate dinner and stayed on track- but that was just the thing. 

Phil was so so tired of staying on track. 

Of course- he couldn’t spend his quarter life crisis opening a business or taking up painting or blogging- Phil stole his parents beaten up station wagon and elected to go on a grand road trip all by himself. 

So maybe- just maybe, he was being stupid. 

Phil tried to tell himself that, he really did, but the smog over London clears an hour or so out of the city, and the stars wink at him and smile, so he smiles too. 

Stupid isn’t always stupid, he supposes. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

He’d fumbled with keys in the dim lighting of his living room, rushing to clear out before his parents gathered by the front door. It’d been a stressful night- so the rising sun the next morning was welcome. 

Sunrise was the most wonderful time of day, Phil thought. It was blank canvas- trusting promise- everything that he’d never been able to find on his own. 

He yawns- stretching out the crick in his neck from sleeping in the backseat - and gets ready to start driving again. (Granted- he’s a horrible driver- but nobody’s around to scold him, so he figures as long as he doesn’t get into an accident- he’ll be okay.) 

Breakfast is a tiny bag of crisps that’s half air and tasting of state emptiness, washed down with a five hour energy he’ll most certainly regret.. It’s nice though- he gets to spread comforter he slept on over the hood of his car and watch clouds and cars race by at an infinite pace and watch the sky change pastel pinks and blues. 

Phil loves the sky. It covers his aching shoulders with hands that soothed and promised that life was starting from this moment on- and whispered happiness in his ears with the wind. 

So that’s how it is. He watches the sky change whilst he tries to develop some sort of schedule for this endeavour. It goes something like, drive for three hours, stop for half, drive, stop, drive, stop, go find a gas station- buy food, go to bed. Or at least that’s the first day. 

As that day turns into two- then three, Phil thinks that he should know where he wants to go by now- but he doesn't. 

The tinny overprocessed pop hits drown out his sorrows with the sun and the suburban landscape. His journey might not have a definite destination- but Phil starts to think the whole thing might land in the country. 

Wild grasses whipping around his ankles with the breeze and open fields that dot the landscape like sprinkles on an ice cream cone from up above, is all he can dream about now. 

Phil has no idea if it’ll make him happy or not- but he’s got to see. 

\-----------------------------------------------

The real world starts to melt away like houses from the land do fairly quickly. The churning gears in Phil’s head dull to a quieter hammering sort of sound, and it’s sweet relief. 

Being in a house with his parents at such an old age has really messed him up, he thinks. There’s that omnipresent feeling of co-dependence that he can’t shake until he’s gone- far far gone. 

Everything got messy when Molly had her baby. 

Molly was his best friend from high school onwards- and even hearing about her marriage had been the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. Well- maybe not the weirdest (thinking back on the guy that woofed in his ear at that 7/11 yesterday), but definitely shocking. 

She’d only been twenty one, and while she gushed over the phone to Phil about the ring, and Matt- and everything she’d planned over the week since the proposal. He’d yessed and smiled and congratulated through the phone call, but honestly- the whole thing didn’t make sense to him. 

Why spend money on a wedding when there were already student loans to pay off? Why get married at all so young? Surely if two people were in love, they could wait… right? 

Phil figured he must have just been cynical. It’s not like he would have known what it was like to be so in love with somebody that he wanted to marry them at his age. 

So he’d gone, and had a little too much to drink at the reception, and danced with one of the bridesmaids who looked at him hungrily whilst he only felt empty. The hangover hurt marginally less than the thought that he probably wouldn’t be seeing much more of Molly now. 

Then just two years later- she announces the baby, and it’s wonderful. Molly looks like a million bucks- beaming and kissing cheeks and swooning over bassinets and little onesies and everything else that makes Phil feel more numb that when he downs too much vodka and passes out on the bed that had been his his entire life. 

Her name is Tabitha, and when Phil holds her for the first time, he cries- but not because she’s beautiful and full of potential (even though he tells Molly and Joe that right away), but because he see’s all of that crumbling within his heart. 

The promise in a babies eyes is enough to make you notice the death of your own- he thinks. 

The next two day’s- Phil hides under the covers like he’s ten- and thinks about his own future. Sure he’s got a great degree- but still, every great thing leads to monotony soon. After all- Molly was a god damned Actress. Who’s to say that he wouldn’t turn out the same cookie cutter white picket fence sooner or later? 

The idea chokes him- makes him feel like the room is full of smoke and mirrors- and when he gasps for air, he finds none at all. 

Phil starts chasing hopelessness with energy drinks and orange juice rather than cocktails, feeling the hum of his heart match the dim pavement of the road patter out underneath the wheels of the car. His knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel- and he smiles. 

Alone- not lonely. Not completely. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

When it rains- Phil blasts the radio even though he shouldn’t (wastes gas), and runs around on the side of whatever deserted road he travels. Puddles that used to soak through his trainers and make his day soggy and defeated are once again made for jumping. 

He laughs to the sky and lets it soak his clothes and his spirit- the drops cleansing him inside out. It’s been a long long time since the rain made him feel anything but a reflection of how he feels inside- but he’s starting to see rainbows and the promise of exciting thunder over anything else. 

Phil climbs back into the car and puts on a pair of UFO covered pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt, letting his other outfit dry in the front seat with the heaters on full blast. The sound washes over him like an ocean tide, and he drifts off to the sound of the gentle warming hum. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

Things turn green in a dull misty haze that coats morning like an old friend. Phil starts driving around in a world of muted emeralds and bright sunny yellows, never once missing the grey haze of London. 

The city was only ever electric at night. The country here buzzes with power all day long- but it’s hard to see. It dances colors different than London- which lives in its bright and shiny neon reds and blues. 

Out here, there is only green, but it dances the most beautiful little sense of living- of growth, of extraordinary hiding just there behind the trees. 

Phil wants to chase it down and live it for himself, for all of the stories from his children's books have got to start coming true at some point. 

Right?

\-----------------------------------------------------------

His Mum calls every night and makes him promise that he’s not going to take up prostitution. Phil laughs and tells her everything she wants to hear, minus the fact that he’s dropped two stone and living off of a diet that’s going to give him food poisoning soon. 

She tells him that everybody misses him, and Phil wishes his love before hanging up and immediately putting his phone on silent. 

 

He had three missed calls from Molly, four from his brother, and one from a service number. 

Phil rolls his eyes and clambers to the car roof to watch the sky change again. He envies the sky, because it can change whenever it wants without anybody asking any questions. Why couldn’t he have that? 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a big long mental list in Dan’s head that lists the do’s and don’t’s of existing. Or at least- there was, until now. 

One of the things on that list was “don’t fail end of term exams”. Dan had checked that off the second after leaving the hall- and then ticked away “don’t run away from your entire life after you fail your end of term exams”. 

The whole notion of getting a degree in law had been laughable from the start- he had to admit. Why he’d been so shocked with the crippling depression and anxiety crashing into him like waves on a stormy ocean, Dan had no idea. 

He’d known failure had been inevitable from the start, but…. he’d been holding out hope. Just one look at the test had sent him into crisis mode, and now the only thing to do was to run away and wait for the call from his disappointed mother. 

Dan didn’t have a car, or a map, or a destination. He’d run into his dorm after the whole ordeal, shoving bits and bobs and dirty t-shirts and jeans into a backpack. It felt heavy on his shoulders- but in the most wonderful way possible. Maybe this would be living- this would be discovery and hope and everything that he’d always looked for. 

He hoped to god that it existed for him. After all, he’d only been looking in the wrong place, right? How is anyone supposed to find themselves in the spine of a four hundred dollar textbook? 

Backpack gripped tight like a second grader on the first day of primary school, he’d set off, not even wishing goodbyes to the people that were half friends to him. Dan had nobody, no friends, neither of his parents really gave a damn. That was alright though. 

Breathing in air that stung his brain with that June potting soil and rain soaked pavement smell, Dan pads quietly away from a life that was never his to live. He might not have anybody, but he had the world. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------

A week in- Phil meet’s Dan, and everything gets turned on it’s head. 

He’s jittery and humming half heartedly along to the radio in the hot summer sun, too many ounces of artificial sweetener and caffeine rushing through his sun soaked veins. The car was full of gas, and the land on either side of the crumbling road growing tall with trees. 

Phil thinks he’s seeing things when a boy walking along with a black backpack appears up ahead. He looks slow, like every step is causing him considerable burden, and Phil can see the sadness just in the way he carries himself. 

It’s a split second decision that has his heart racing with the stupidity of it all- but he slows down. 

He looks startled, and stops- watching Phil in the car with wide brown eyes that were riddled with fear and surprise. It takes him aback entirely- because the boy is… well, really beautiful. 

“Hey, uh, do you need a ride somewhere?” Phil offers, his heart in his throat feigning confidence he’d never really grasped before. He looks about twenty, hugging the straps to him as if they would turn the backpack into a jetpack at the blink of an eye and take him far far away. Phil knows the look well, bags under eyes and red tinting sclera in a strange sort of poetry amongst exhausted faces. 

“Um…” He seizes up, tense and apprehensive, looking down at his worn converse and scraping into the dirt with a nervous motion. “I’m not really… going anywhere. I’m just walking.” 

Phil swallows, nodding at tanned tired skin that looks like it’s seen the death of a thousand suns, and figures that this is it then- one of those “i’ll never know” things. 

“Same here.” He smiles, leaning out to offer him a handshake. Was that strange? “I’m Phil.” pops out of his mouth before he can decide. 

Then the corners of his mouth curve upwards into something that’s minty and sweet and nothing less than the way the grass floats in the breeze, and Phil feels his heart stop. The stranger’s smile seemed to shy away from the world though, and it looked half hearted, but god damned gorgeous still. 

Bruised knuckles wrap around Phil’s and grip tight, “Dan.” It’s short and it’s sweet, but it suits him- like everything else but the storm cloud that rains over him. 

“I’m sorry if this is weird and prying, and everything else that’s out of order,” Phil says, letting go of Dan’s hand, feeling like the words pouring from his mouth were ones he wouldn’t have said seven days ago, “But you look… sad.” 

Dan’s brow furrows and Phil feels himself stutter on, “How long have you been walking?” 

“I don’t know…. a few days?” He says, and does the little shrug and shuffle again. 

“Have you been sleeping on the ground?” Phil looks at him with disbelief and wonder- what on earth could he be leaving behind that sleeping alone on the side of the road in the dirt was preferable? 

Dan laughs out a feeble, “Ah, well- they say it’s good for your back.” 

“Dan, are you sure you don’t want to come along with me? There’s not a lot of room in here- but it’s got doors that lock and seats that are most certainly preferable to the ground.” 

“I- I don’t know.” Dan sighs, and Phil thinks that maybe he’s thinking about it, “Bit weird to just accept rides from strangers in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it?” 

“I’m not a serial killer, I promise, swear it, even!” Phil says. 

“That sounds exactly like something that a serial killer would say.” Dan raises an eyebrow, and crosses his arms playfully. He gives in, reaching for the handle of the passenger side door with a trembling hand. 

“Fine. I’m in.” He slides into the seat beside Phil, “But only because you don’t look very threatening, and maybe you’re a little sad too.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Dan’s a welcome source of company, and Phil’s surprised to realize that he’d been getting lonely before. 

They’d only been together for all of five minutes before Dan reached into his backpack and offered up a Muse CD. 

“Dunno why I packed this, but I’m glad I did.” He’d laughed- a wonderful sort of sound that probably summoned fairies and dark misty nights. “Do you like Muse?” 

Phil had gone on a ramble for about ten minutes then on just how much he liked the band, whilst the tones of ‘Origin of Symmetry’ filled the now lively car. It was strange how well they got along, as if they were matching puzzle pieces. Dan giggled at all the right places and saved the mood from being too sweet by keeping up his alluring but biting sarcasm. 

“Ugh- how can you drink that stuff?” He’d gagged at the sight of Phil bringing a can of redbull to his lips, “You’re going to have a heart attack, jesus christ.” 

“Well- it’s cheaper than stopping to buy coffee every day.” Phil had reasoned, “I can just buy a six pack and be done with it.” 

“I’m holed up with a bloody caffeine addict oh my god” Dan shook his head, “You’re literally going to die if you keep drinking those- they’re horrible for you.” 

So is a lot of things out there- but everyone does them anyways. 

Phil fell upon a fit of giggles- nearly pitching them off of the road in the process. Dan had shouted- grabbing the door, 

 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” 

“You say ‘literally’ funny.” Phil grinned, tongue poking out from behind his teeth, “Li-trah-lee.” 

“YOU’RE A GODDAMN MANIAC, PHIL-” Dan paused, panting and holding his heart, “Uh… What’s your last name?” 

“Lester.” 

“Well you’re a fucking maniac, Phil Lester.” Dan chased his sudden rage with one of those honey sweet and sorrow tinted smiles, and it took Phil everything he had to keep his eyes on the road- lest he hit a hedge or something. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

At night- Phil usually has trouble sleeping- and when he can fall asleep, it’s light and not at all dependable. Hence the copious amounts of red bull and other energy drinks he keeps running through his system at all hours. 

He offers Dan his blanket, and he takes it, nodding thank you’s and all of the like. Phil didn’t mind- he was rarely cold- and besides, Dan’s hand had been freezing even in the hot sun when they’d shaken hands earlier. 

Stars wink free of the city smog- and Phil drifts off, crossed arms over his bright green hoodie whilst he winks back at them. He tells the stars all about Dan and how much he hopes things are going to start to change from then on. 

Dreams mash together until he wakes up cursing to the sound of steps on gravel. He’s already scrabbling around the locks with sleepy shaking hands- before he realizes that Dan’s not in the back anymore. 

“Dan?” Phil yawns, getting out of the car and catching him pacing back and forth as if his life depends on it. “You alright?” He keeps his tone soft, because Dan looks like a deer in the headlights, and it’s as if he’ll scatter away into the forest if he makes any sudden movements. 

“Yeah, fine.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and this helps.” His hair is messy and sticking out in all of the right places to make Dan look exactly like a naruto character, and Phil has to pinch himself to keep from giggling. 

“Do you want to talk about it, maybe?” He offers, sitting on the hood of the car and shooting Dan a hopeful gaze. 

He’s quiet for a while, sighing and looking up at the sky’s wonderful mess of violet, cobalt and deep empty black. The moon lights up Dan’s face and it’s wrought with contemplation, before he tears his gaze away and says, 

“What would you do if you needed to start over, but had no idea how?” 

Phil’s eyes widen with understanding, and he feels like he’s watching Dan’s entire world collapse- though it must have already if it’s making him pace alone in the cold of English nights. He looks smaller now than he is, a lost boy if he’d ever seen one- and Phil felt like he was looking in a mirror. 

“Well, based on personal experience, I’d run away from home and go on a road trip.”He smiles, and pats the spot next to him.

Dan stands still for a moment, before walking over to sit all too close, but all too lovely as well. Their thighs touch, and Phil feels like he’s in highschool all over again with the way his heart is trying to go into cardiac arrest. Now when the stars start winking at him, he starts to blush, and he swears that Dan moves closer with a smile. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Phil wakes up to Dan in his face flashing a driver’s license and all but climbing on top of him to get to the steering wheel. 

“I’m gonna drive today, because you’re gonna kill us otherwise.” He chirps in his ear, and Phil smiles through groggy vision and scoots out of Dan’s way. 

“How do you have one of those, what are you- twelve?” He says, grinning mischievously. 

Dan rolls his eyes and starts the old car, rumbling to life and coughing. 

“I’m nineteen, Phil”

“Practically a fetus!” He yawns, stretching as much as the low roof would allow while the radio springs to life and tells him that it’s already ten am. 

“You can’t be any older than twenty yourself.” Dan says, gripping the wheel and taking the car out of park. He drives much better than Phil, he can’t deny it. 

“Do I really look that young?” Phil gasps, “I’m thirty five!” 

“Bullshit. How old are you actually?” 

“Twenty four.” He admits, opening the window and breathing in the fresh air. It had taken him ages to get the stink of the city out of his nose, and Phil wonders how he lived before without smelling the grass every day. 

The sun meanders her usual walk through the clouds, and as beautiful as she is, she’s not as sparkling as the boy who’s driving his car like a pro. Dan is one of those people that can create conversation out of thin air, and even Phil, who’s gotten used to living in shy silence, is taken aback by the onslaught of questions and bombardments of jokes. 

Giggles fill the car like loneliness once had, and it’s a welcome change. Dan rants a lot too, and it’s funny how an act that used to bother Phil immensely comes back to become deep and interesting when he does it. 

It’s five when they raid a gas station together, Phil electing to fill the car’s gas tank whilst Dan scavenges for food. When he comes back out- he tosses a gigantic bag of chips and pop into the back seat- and hands a steaming cup to Phil. 

“Thought I’d buy you coffee.” He bites his bottom lip, hands in both pockets, and Phil feels like his brain has just turned entirely to jello. “I recognize that this road trip is half redemption and half self destruction- but I figured that we should keep the second to a minimum. Perhaps a quarter?” 

Phil laughs, and suppresses the overwhelming urge to plant a kiss on Dan’s flushed cheek. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Phil learns quickly that Dan has bad days. Really bad days. 

It’s their third day together, and the car is filled with stale silence that somehow manages to drown out whining guitar solos. Phil’s eyes dart from the road, back to Dan- curled up and gazing pensively out of the window. He doesn’t even stir when Phil hits potholes with far more force than anybody should be able to muster. 

“You okay?” Phil says at three, after about five hours of strained silence. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, but if I can help… well, I’d like to.” 

Dan rubs his eyes, hands balled up in sweatshirt sleeves like paws. He sighs, and turns towards Phil, 

“Why did you decide to do this?” 

There’s pleading in his voice, and it’s empty- numb, and it echoes in the walls of Phil’s heart and it hurts. 

“It’s not all that interesting, actually.” He says, “Quarter life crisis. All that.” 

He’s sure that his problems are not as bad as Dan’s, so he just shrugs, and tries to leave it at that. 

“Tell me about it.” Dan pries, and Phil can’t say no. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

So Phil dives in, following his woes like a river on a map- from empty teens to empty false adulthood and the pursuit of freedom amongst a sea of people who seemed to only want to be tied down. Dan listens intently, leaning in and nodding along to everything Phil says. 

“So Molly’s got a kid and a house and a job, and now my parents are asking me about where my family is.” He says, “I figured maybe instead of staying there- stuck, I’d go be independent and do the stuff I wanted for once in my life.” 

“Is it working?” Dan asks, his voice hoarse and quiet and still so heart breakingly empty. Phil doesn’t know what to say. 

“To be honest, I have no idea.” He sighs, “I don’t know, I feel like I’m still not doing anything. I’m just stuck in a car, now.” 

There’s silence, radio turning to static as Phil looks at the sky and is greeted by a great grey storm cloud. He smiles a bit, his old friend rain must be paying a visit soon. 

“Thanks for listening.” He offers Dan a smile, which is reciprocated, and Phil’s heart soars. Without thinking twice, he takes a hand off of the wheel and intertwines his fingers with Dan’s. He swears he hears the breath hitch in the other boys throat, and once again he feels weak at the knees, 

“This okay?” Phil asks after a moment, and when Dan squeezes his hand in response- he thinks maybe this car isn’t the worst place in the world to be stuck. 

\----------------------------------

When it rains, it pours, and it’s never a bad time to go splash in puddles. 

Dan had fallen asleep, head resting on Phil’s arm, and he thought it best not to wake him just for a downpour. He’d pulled over at the edge of a big empty field, and kept the heat of the car on for Dan. 

The rain took away every bit of blood that had been taken from the wounds that his story had left, and Phil’s able to stand there, soaking wet and looking up to the grey storming heavens without a care in his heart. 

He gets about halfway across the field, grinning stupidly around him, before he hears somebody call his name. 

“Phil! Where are you go-AH-” 

A thump follows, and when he turns around, Dan’s about ten feet away, lying face first in a mud puddle and staring up at Phil with a mortified expression.// Phil can’t help the bout of laughter that shakes him inside out. 

“Oh my god.” He whimpers, letting his face fall back in the gigantic pool of mud, completely resigning. Phil can hear the embarrassment in his voice, and realizes that Dan thinks that he was making fun of him. He must have this happen a lot. 

‘SPLASH’ 

Without thinking, Phil does an overly dramatic swan dive into the mud with Dan. It coats his hair and covers his jeans in dirt and rain and something lovely and pure in only the way that filth can do. It gets between his fingers and in his ears- and he’s cold and oh so happy shivering in the rain, all of a sudden. 

Phil opens his eyes when he hears Dan start laughing, head thrown back to the sky as he turns over and covers his face with his mud covered hands, muffling the sound though Phil wishes it wouldn’t. 

“Why did you do that?” He all but shouts- kicking the air to punctuate gasps of breath. Dan was one of those people who laughed with their whole bodies, and Phil could feel his shivers subsiding with the warmth of affection spreading in his chest. 

“I don’t know!” Phil giggles, “I thought it would make you feel better if I fell as well?” 

“You’re literally too sweet for your own good, do you know that?” 

Dan’s still laughing- but it doesn’t sound like a joke. Phil thinks he might be blushing underneath all of the mud on his nose, but he can’t say for sure. He let’s silence fall like the rain between them- lying in the dirt and filling an open field with questions and fears and god- he was going to let them go. 

“Hey, I’ve got a horrible idea.” Phil says, rolling over to look at Dan- still breathless from his raucous laughter. 

“What?” He looks at Phil expectantly, hands resting on his stomach pensive and unassuming.

He lunges forwards without thinking, tickling Dan’s sides mercilessly whilst yelps and giggles punctuate the lonely grass once again. It turns to full blown war in less than a minute- and they roll around in the puddles like kids. Dan turns out to be stronger than Phil had expected- and soon he’s pinned down, back in the water and screaming breathlessly at Dan to quit it. 

“IT’S PAYBACK TIME!” Dan yells- attacking him with tantalizing hands and an infectious smile of victory. It doesn’t last long though- Phil heaves himself up after a few moments, and switches places with Dan. 

“Phil- stop!” His face is flushed, and he’s running out of breath- and the whole situation is just silly and stupid, and Phil doesn’t want it to end. “PHIL- REALLY STOP IT.” 

“What happens if i-” Phil doesn’t even finish the sentence before Dan’s fist connects with his jaw- and finds himself spiraling out of the picture with throbbing pain mixed with formally good intentions. “You hit me!” He gasps, the ghost of a smile still playing at his lips, as if to imply that Dan could beat the shit out of him after a tickle fight and it wouldn’t mean a thing. 

“Oh my god-” Dan sits up and covers his face with his hands, “I’m so sorry!” 

“Dan- it’s alright!” Phil puts a hand on the other boys shoulder and nods through the sharp sting that radiates through the right side of his face. “Really- it’s okay, I deserved it.” 

“Are you okay?” He uncovers his eyes- leaning over to run careful fingers over the bruising bone, “Oh my god, you’re bleeding, i can’t believe i did that.” 

Phil touches the spot- and is surprised to find brilliant red blood mix with the earthy umber of the mud on his fingers. It’s tantalizing. He looks up at Dan and feels his heart stop with the realization that he wants to be jumping into puddles with this boy forever.

“Well, I know who I’d pick now to back me up in a fight.” He smiles, standing carefully in the slippery spot of mud, and holds a hand out for Dan, “How do you feel about getting dried off now?” 

“Good plan.”

\-----------------------------------------

“What do you say we spend the night somewhere other than your car?” 

The heat is on full blast, and Phil is bent over a notebook- pen sticking out of his mouth whilst he attempts to write shitty poetry. He figures there are worse times to take up hobbies, so he sees no harm in doing it on the world’s most uneventful road trip of all time. 

Dan’s lounging in the backseat- wrapped up in Phil’s blanket whilst he races raindrops to the bottom of the windows- beautiful chocolate brown eyes wrapped up in the cold dull grey of the changing sky. He tears his gaze away from the rain to raise an eyebrow at Phil, 

“Not that there’s anything wrong with your car- but it’s been almost a week, and I don’t know about you- but I wouldn’t turn away a proper shower.” 

“Are you insulting Janice?” Phil says, placing a hand on the dashboard and looking back at Dan with mock horror. “Well- I suppose we could- but is it too late to find a place?” 

“I have no idea.” Dan climbs haphazardly out of his blanket cocoon over to the driver's seat, “Let’s find out.” 

“I admire your recklessness, Dan.” Phil laughs, exhaust stuttering and leaving hazy fog trails in the humid air outside. 

“And I your agreeability.” He smiles, and the chill from the rain and mud subsides from the warmth of Dan’s voice. 

\-------------------------------------------

Dan has a nicer phone than Phil does- so they use the gps feature on his to find a shitty motel half an hour away. It’s a quiet drive of distant thunder and gradually darkening skies- and Phil feels more than content sitting in the passenger seat while a near stranger drives his car. 

The lady at the check in counter snaps gum and eyes them up and down with disgust in their grimy t-shirts and rain soaked hair. When she charges them for a room and hands them a pen to sign the receipt with, she orders them to keep the pen. The keys are handed over with pinched fingers and a grimace. 

The room is dim, and coated in a very fine layer of dust from the eighties and lysol. Phil can feel his skin crawling, but Dan next to him is grinning like an absolute maniac. It’s odd how perfectly the dated mustardy- orange makes his skin glow and sparkle in the flickering light. 

He calls the shower first- and Phil is near positive that he lets the hot water run out whilst he’s left to check for bed bugs and decomposing corpses. When Dan walks out, he’s shirtless, save from a questionable looking towel tied round his waist, and Phil has to tear his gaze away from the sight. It’s okay until Dan winks at him, and Phil slaps him on the shoulder in a surefire non-platonic fashion. 

The water pressure is horrible, and it creeps over his skin in a way that somehow makes him feel dirtier than when he walked in. Phil guesses that he just doesn’t understand the appeal of motels, and though he should be reveling in the beauty of it’s mediocrity- he’s having trouble. If nothing else, he’s happy for the lack of dried mud in his hair and the smell of old soap that coats his skin like chalk. 

Phil’s pleased to see the same lingering gaze over his chest that he’d shot Dan before play over his dumbstruck face, and he allows himself a cheeky wink as well. Now it’s Dan’s turn to flush ruby red. 

When the lights turn out and the only glow in the room comes from the neon red numbers on the digital alarm clock that’s more than likely out of sync, and the moon out of the small narrow window above their heads, Phil has to keep himself from rolling over onto his side and burying his face into Dan’s neck. 

The single bed that he’d thought would be torture turns into a sort of constant state of soothing lullaby. Dan can’t stay still. Not for the life of him. He tosses and turns in full wake whilst Phil has his back turned, and every time the mattress dips, he fights away a smile that plays like a song he once knew about a noose and a true love. 

Phil falls asleep to the quiet ticking of the clock and the dripping faucet, and Dan’s tiny incoherent mumblings. 

He wakes up yawning at three in the morning, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes that in sleep (or perhaps not), Dan had rolled over to drape a hand over Phil’s waist. His breath tickles his neck, and he cuddles closer to the sleeping boy behind him, before he drifts off into a slumber that’s all too ecstatic to be considered peaceful. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“Let’s go on a hike today.” 

Dan gazes at him over crappy coffee, smirking like he remembers every second of his body pressed against Phil’s from last night. To be perfectly honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Dan was strange and sneaky like that. 

Phil studies him minutely, taking in the sight of sleepy eyes and messy curling brown hair that dips down his face as he sips at cardboard caffeine. There’s still a sense of sadness hiding behind cheery clear tones and bright umber eyes- but it’s farther away- like he’s put it down a while back and walked away from it until the memory of the past fades into breezy grass fields. 

“Sounds alright, yeah.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Phil figures that at some point he should ask Dan why he decided to get in the car with him a week and a half ago. It doesn't feel like it’s been that little time- it’s as if he'd known that messy hobbit hair for years. 

Dan seems happier as each hour passes though, and Phil’s not sure if he has the heart to drag him back out of that sense of tranquility and erratic redbull life that they’ve built around a crappy old car and mindless and meaningful banter between them. 

So they go hiking, because the sun flitting through the trees like a shy schoolboy hiding from a crush makes Dan grin wider and wider as the trail goes on. It’s rocky and pitted, and Phil trips and falls a few times- scraping knees and bruising shins whilst Dan laughs and hands him bandaids and antiseptic like it’s routine. 

“Why do you have all this?” Phil giggles the first time- sitting on a rock with his bloody mess of a knee stays propped up so that Dan can play doctor. 

“Phil Lester- you can never be too prepared.” Dan pulls out a bottle of water and pours it over the wound, cleaning and disinfecting with a careful hands and focused eyes. “There.” He says, leaning down to kiss the top of the hello kitty band aid, “Better?” 

His heart skips a beat, and he nods, “Much.”

When they come across a stream- Phil reaches a hand in the water to greet the sparkling gills of a school of fish. They nibble at his fingers, and it’s a welcome feeling. For some reason it reminds him of Molly, and for the first time he can look back fondly rather than feel the ache of bitter immaturity and distaste building like acid in his stomach. 

Dan tries to go rock hopping across the the ten foot water path, and succeeds. Phil claps from the other side- but doesn’t want to risk clumsiness against slippery rocks coated with moss that could be read like words on the pages of a book by now. 

It’s noon, when the sun is the highest and stinging of Phil’s knee starts to ebb away like the flowing water beside them. Their hands meet and curl into one another as if it’s the sort of thing they do all the time. It stays for another hour, not letting go and living in a state of permanent headrush whilst Phil tries to look where he’d going instead of watching Dan with eyes filled of wonder and affection. 

It’s around one thirty that everything starts to fall apart. 

Together they sit atop the biggest boulder they could find, staring pensively out along the trees amidst the occasional stupid knock knock joke and wandering hands. It’s after a particularly rousing re-run of ‘Knock knock, who’s there?, your mum.” When Dan’s phone buzzes violently on the moss in front of them. 

“Speak of the devil-” Phil starts to say when the contact name flashes “Mum”, but cuts short when he sees the sudden flash of white dazzled horror that floods Dan’s face. 

“Dan?-” 

He shakes his head at Phil, and takes a deep breath before grabbing the phone, 

“This is going to get… messy.” He warns, and then picks up. 

Phil spends the next hour watching Dan fall to pieces. His speech is a constant slew of “Yeah, yeah I know…. I know, I’m sorry- but maybe it’s better this way? Look I understand that this was important, but… it’s not my be all end all…. I know you and dad spent a lot of money… I know- I fucked up.” 

He wants to reach out and hold his hand again, but he’s not sure if it’s welcome. So he watches him hold the bridge of his nose and fight tears. 

“No, no I’m uh… I’m spending some time with a friend for now.” 

Pause. 

“I don’t think I want to go back for anything else either. Maybe university just isn’t for me.” 

Oh.

Dan hangs up after some fumbled goodbyes and a promise to call in a weeks time, and looks at Phil with red rimmed eyes and hopeless spirit. Without saying anything, he takes in a shaky breath, and buries his face into his hands. 

Before Phil can even think, he’s wrapping his arms around Dan, enveloping in a hug that he can feel ache in his bones. After a moment or two of stillness, Dan gives way, sobbing into Phil’s shirt and balling the fabric in shaking fists as the facade of flirty, mysterious Dan Howell cracks and fractures, Leaving Phil holding and rocking a pile of stardust. 

He hushes into Dan’s ear, murmuring, “It’s okay”’s and “You’re alright, I’ve got you” over and over until his tongue feels numb. Time disappears to the chirping of the birds and the flowing of the stream, and Phil doesn't pull away until he feels Dan start hyperventilating into his chest. 

“Dan- Dan-” He says, sharp and gentle, “Watch me” Phil holds him just far away enough that Dan can look him in the eye and follow the pattern of his breaths. He’s trembling, chest heaving with erratic breath whilst tears stream down his face with abandon, “Look- In for five, out for seven. Can you do that with me?” 

Dan’s face slowly goes slack, following Phil’s words and motions like his life depends on it, and in the moment, it probably does. The shaking stops after a few minutes, and soon he’s falling back into Phil’s chest, hiccuping and exhausted. 

He tries to talk, but Phil shushes him, holding him tighter, 

“You don’t have to explain yourself or anything. Not now, anyways. Just breathe for now- it’s alright.” 

So they stay like that forever it feels like, Dan staring blankly at the tree’s with swollen cheeks and a heartbreaking tight lipped frown- whilst Phil rubs his thumbs in circles and shapes over Dan’s back in hopes that it does something. 

The sky grows dark before either of them say anything- and it’s Dan who breaks the spell. 

“I wanted to be an actor.” His voice is hoarse and empty, and Phil feels his heart give way for the hundredth time, “But I thought it was impossible, so I signed up for a degree I hated- so I could make a lot of money to support the inevitable family until death- thing.” 

“It wasn’t until I was sat in the final exam, about to flunk out of a law degree in an expensive university that I realized that that wasn’t living. That maybe, maybe I didn’t want that.” 

Phil nods, and presses his chin to Dan’s shoulder- his back to his chest now. 

“This is living. Isn’t it? Doing what feels right when it feels right- chasing happiness like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.” 

“Yeah. Yeah- I think you’re right.” Phil says, quiet and breathy- giving it up to the dark dusty emerald of the trees bathing in sunset. “What’s the point of following the pre-destined path just because everybody else does it.” He swallows, this whole thing hitting surprisingly close to home, “You should do those things if they’re going to make you happy- and only if.” 

Dan hugs Phil’s arms around him closer, snuggling against each other, “My mom is really upset I didn’t say anything earlier, and she’s still trying to get me to go back and try something else.” He shakes his head, “I don’t want to though. I like this- the thing that we’re doing.” “I’m just afraid of what’s going to happen when it ends.” 

Phils heart is in his throat, and he let’s a pause rest in between them before he murmurs, 

“What if it doesn’t have to?” 

\-----------------------------------------------------

They check into another motel that night- exhausted and bleary eyed, sharing sad smiles across the only double bed in the room. 

It’s only a matter of time before Dan turns in the dark- moonlight bouncing off of his striking features and says, 

“Did you mean it before when you said this doesn’t have to end?” 

And it’s Phil who jumps into action, leaning in towards Dan until their foreheads are touching and he feels punch drunk and stupid- eyes locking with amber sparkling, getting lost in eyes that held him so close he never ever wanted to let go. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Dan leans in and their lips collide, tentative and moving against each other in nothing less than infatuation at it’s highest. Phil throws his arms around Dan’s neck, and they melt into one another- losing track of where one ended and the other begins- pale moonlight dancing over softened features. 

“I really don’t want to go back.” Dan whispers hoarsely, pulling away and staring at Phil like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he feels like his heart is going to burst at the sight. 

“Then don’t.” 

Phil pulls him in tighter, reminding himself for the first time in a long time that life is weird, and sometimes the beauty of an uncertain future lies in gorgeous strangers who kiss all too good under full moons that shine far too bright to be understood.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lads ty very much for reading my trash au, I hope you're all swell. I wrote this for camp nano like two years ago and going through all of my old phan fics was super fun and I'll probably post some of the others I wrote in the next few weeks!! Especially this bookshop au I did holy GOD that one is dope as hell, I should have that out in another week or two.
> 
> Also for your troubles, here's a playlist I made to go along with this-- http://8tracks.com/thecatstoldmeto/jumping-puddles
> 
> I'm also going to be working on a lot of Johnlock fics as of late because your fave sweet price got REKT by series 4 bullshit- so I'm gonna be writing a lot of fluffy nice stuff to compensate. Well, mostly. I'm really a sucker for pain with Sherlock, I can't help myself. Hmu for lots of femlock and theatre au's, it's all I've got. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and be sure to leave a comment if you enjoyed it. I'd love to hear from you!!


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